


His Lucy

by beneathawesternsky



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 10:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14851061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneathawesternsky/pseuds/beneathawesternsky
Summary: Garcia Flynn was a patient man. He had done everything "his" Lucy told him to do. He believed her when she said that Past Lucy would fall in love with him. But it has been taking so long. With the last few signs, Flynn knew it was time to start showing her his true feelings. But would this Lucy love him like "his" Lucy? Would she accept him? Or would he lose her to Wyatt Logan? [Flucy/Garcy] [Set after 2x9, but the new and improved lifeboat didn't arrive]





	His Lucy

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of just a drabble, but can turn into a full-blown fic if anyone's interested. Just let me know what you think/where you'd like to see this go/ideas you have. I don't normally base plots off reader comments, but I want to try taking prompts, if only loosely. Thanks guys! Here's to hoping a season 3 happens, and Garcy comes full term.

“I don’t give a damn about Wyatt,” Flynn said, stone faced. “That’s not why I’m here.” 

Lucy searched Flynn’s face for meaning. “Why  _are_ you here?”

Flynn’s eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to answer—but Wyatt burst into the room. It was always Wyatt getting in the way. If he weren’t trying desperately to earn Lucy’s trust and respect, he’d have done away with the little urchin for good long ago.

But _this_ Lucy wasn’t _his_ Lucy. Not yet.

His Lucy had been very clear—Wyatt would not be an obstacle forever. Lucy’s heart would open to Flynn. But when? When he had pressed her for an answer, she refused, and said “if I have to give you instructions, then it’s not really fair, now is it?”

“I think the whole concept of time travel, my love, is entirely unfair to begin with,” Flynn said, naked with his Lucy, under only a thin sheet.

“Maybe,” Future Lucy said, and placed her hand on his cheek, melting into him before the two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was their last night together before she boarded the lifeboat and went back to her time. Whenever that was 

He could practically feel her hand on his cheek as he recalled the memory of the two of them in bed, now as he stood and stared as Lucy and Wyatt sat on the floor in the bunker speaking in hushed tones.

The hollow pit in his stomach hurt almost as much as the gunshot wound to his shoulder.

He watched in silence as Lucy stood gingerly, bracing against the wall.

“Lucy I—” Wyatt said, rising to meet her.

“I can’t do this right now, Wyatt,” she said, and put her hand up to stop the conversation. She turned to walk away, only to have Wyatt grab her hand to stop her. It was a gentle gesture, but still, it stoked a fire deep in Flynn, and it took every ounce of strength he had to stop himself from intervening. Lucy was capable of handling her life on her own. He respected her boundaries, even when others didn’t.

“Please don’t,” Lucy said, and pulled her hand away from Wyatt, and ran to the end of the hallway, making a turn, looking for somewhere, anywhere, she could be alone. With Jiya back, she was sure that was where she would be, seeking her own solace from the loss of Rufus.

When Lucy had reached the alcove she sought out, nestled away from any of the bunker rooms, but close to the bunker’s entrance, Lucy collapsed against the concrete wall, and sunk down to her haunches. She tucked her knees in front of her, and wrapped her arms around them, muffling her gasping sobs.

So many emotions ran through her mind at the moment, she wasn’t sure which one was responsible for her tears. Just one, or all of them? Was it the loss of her mother? The loss of Rufus? The way Wyatt had jerked her emotions around one too many times? She had no idea, but it hurt more than anything she had ever felt before.

She just wanted it to stop.

Flynn stood several feet away, unable to allow himself to watch Lucy suffer alone. He rushed to her, like he had done in 1888, and knelt in front of her.

“Lucy…” he said quietly, drawing her from her huddled state. She looked up, and her sobbing abated for a moment. He could see the turmoil in her eyes. Would she shut herself off from Flynn?

In the end, the pleading look in Lucy’s eyes was the only answer Flynn needed. It said _stay_.  

Flynn could feel it. Something had happened in that hallway, as he held her while she sobbed. The wall between them had started to crumble.

He opened his arms to her, and sat on the floor next to her. She allowed herself to be cradled by him, laying her head on his chest. He made comforting noises, and stroked her hair.

After a few moments, Lucy began to catch her breath, and looked back at Flynn. She put her hands on his wrists as he held her head in place.

“It’s too much,” she said, and hiccupped, shaking her head. “I c… I can’t… b-breathe.”

“Yes you can, Lucy,” he said, and held her gaze while he exaggerated his own breathing. After a moment, Lucy caught on, and held on as she mimicked his breathing. Before too long, Lucy was riding the aftershocks of her sobbing, and dropped her head onto Flynn’s shoulder.

“You need to lie down,” Flynn said into Lucy’s hair, feeling slightly guilty for relishing in their closeness, given how much pain she was in.

“Jiya, she…” Lucy started, talking into Flynn’s sweater. “She needs the room to herself. _This god damned sardine can of a bunker._ ”

“Here,” Flynn said, and helped Lucy to her feet. “You can lie down in my room. No one will bother you there.”

Lucy chuckled breathily. “I don’t have the energy to argue with that,” Lucy said. “God knows what Wyatt will say when he sees you walking me into your room.”

“Let me worry about Wyatt,” Flynn said, and supported Lucy the rest of the way to his room. Lucy kept her gaze to the ground, lest she spot Wyatt.

When she heard the door close behind her, and looked back at Flynn, who watched her sympathetically.

“What happened back there? Did Wyatt upset you?” Flynn ventured.

Lucy sighed, and sat at the foot of Flynn’s bed, her gaze going soft a moment, staring at nothing.

She shook her head, not in reply, but in disbelief at the situation.

What had he hoped to accomplish by telling her he loved her? Right after she lost her mom, and Rufus? After he had set her aside so easily when his wife came back to life.

“The second his wife is gone, out of the picture… he tells me he loves me.” Lucy finally looked up at Flynn, who tried desperately to affect a neutral expression.

“I should feel happy, right?” she asked. Flynn was silent.

“I should want this,” she reasoned, to herself.

Flynn started to grow uncomfortable, and he shifted where he stood, and looked at his door, considering leaving Lucy alone after all.

“—but I don’t,” Lucy said, stopping him in his tracks.

“You…” Flynn said, feeling like a teenager again. Hopeful.

“Back there, you said… you said… Well, you know,” she said. “You didn’t finish what you were going to say.”

“I didn’t,” Flynn said, his stomach flipping.

“Is it what I think it is?” Lucy asked. Flynn understood what she meant.

In a moment of raw courage, he nodded, holding Lucy’s gaze. He stood there, feeling like he was completely exposed, and understanding washed over Lucy’s face. She didn’t shudder or look away from him.

Instead, she nodded very lightly, and set aside their conversation for later.

“I need you to say it,” Lucy said. “But not tonight…”

“No,” Flynn said, earnestly. “Not tonight.” As if he had even considered manipulating Lucy’s emotions that way. All he wanted to do right now was take her pain away.

“You should rest,” he said, and made to open the door. Lucy’s voice stopped him.

“Stay with me,” she said. A pause passed between them. Flynn nodded, and made to sit in the chair next to his bed.

“No,” she interrupted. “ _Stay with me_ ,” she said, with meaning. He could see in her eyes she was too tired to hide behind false modesty, or a sense of propriety. He could see she didn’t want to dissect anyone’s feelings tonight. Tonight, she just needed someone to be there for her, not wanting anything from her in return.

She didn’t know it now, but Flynn would have given her anything she asked for, and more.

He nodded, and sat beside her in bed. He removed his shoes, and then Lucy’s. Without any delay, he laid back on his cramped bed, and helped Lucy lower herself into the crook of his arm. She draped an arm over his waist, and within minutes, she had fallen asleep, tears still clinging to her eyelashes like morning dew.

Before sleep took him as well, Flynn thought maybe, just maybe, he had just met _his_ Lucy.


End file.
